


Pikuach Nefesh

by CelestialHeavens1



Series: Of Spies and Conmen [7]
Category: Covert Affairs, White Collar
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Death, Gen, Interrogation, Jewish Character, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Murder, Psychological Torture, Russian Mafia, Secret Identity, Spies & Secret Agents, Torture, Violence, Waterboarding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialHeavens1/pseuds/CelestialHeavens1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Season 4 and P'tzatza, Pitzootz, Pitzutz, but before Bechirah Chafshit.</p><p>Matthew Keller escapes during a prison transfer. Neal is kidnapped. It's just another day in White Collar.</p><p>Warning: Contains scenes of graphic torture. Reader digression is advised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pikuach Nefesh

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Warning: Contains scenes of graphic torture. Reader digression is advised.**

* * *

**Pikuach Nefesh (פיקוח נפש)**

_A matter of life and death; one of the highest values in Judaism; the obligation to save a life in jeopardy, is considered a major value to uphold. According to pikuach nefesh a person must do everything in their power to save the life of another, even donate bodily organs._

_Any act that intentionally causes the death of another person (considered to be an act of murder), that injures a person so the potential for death from the injuries is high, or that otherwise creates a dangerous situation that will very likely put one or more lives at risk, is not permitted for the preservation of life. An exception in which killing another person is permitted is the case of a rodef (aggressor), who may be killed in order to save the life of oneself or another. This permits self-defense and wartime killings in Judaism._

* * *

Peter looked unhappy in his office as he sat yelling on the phone, his door shut tight so no one would here his voice raised. Neal, done with his paperwork, walked over to where Diana was pouring a cup of coffee. "What's going on with him?"

"I'm surprised you don't know. He's been in there all day like, just like before we caught you."

Neal frowned. "James didn't escape, did he?"

Diana shuttered. "I sure hope not." She pulled down a second mug and poured him a cup.

"Thanks. You didn't have to-"

"That's okay."

He eyed her suspiciously and leaned in close, speaking in a whisper. "You didn't tell Peter what I did to get James to confess, did you?" He spared a glance up at the Peter, "Because that's one of the few things I can think of that's worthy of him looking like he might spontaneously combust."

The door opened and he came out, fuming. "Jones, Diana, Neal- conference room now!"

The Israeli glanced at the FBI agent and the two grabbed their coffee and ran upstairs, where they were met by Jones. "Peter? What's wrong?"

Peter paced in front of the screen, running his hands though his hair, looking absolutely frustrated.

"Matthew Keller escaped during a transfer."

"What? How?" Jones asked.

"We don't know. The guards and driver were found dead. Keller was gone." Peter stopped pacing and looked up, "I set agents over to El's work. Do you think you could call Mozzie and have him keep her company?" Neal looked up from his phone.

"Already done."

"Why would he escape?" Diana asked, "He had it good. The Russians weren't going to kill him and he was being transferred where he'd have Cuban cigars and On Demand. So why escape?"

"That's the million dollar question."

* * *

It was ten hours later, and there were no leads. "Alright, let's call it a night and head home." Neal pulled on his suit jacket and Rossabi, who had recently moved to New York after he received an offer to join Peter's team in White Collar, gave him a look.

"If anyone can do the impossible, it's you."

"Well, let's hope its before Keller kidnaps Elizabeth again or worse. Good night."

There was a van following him, Neal realized as he walked down the sidewalk. He tried all the usual tricks, but nothing seemed to be dodge his tail. Reaching in his pocket, he dialed a singular word to a burner cell, hoping the number was still in use. The message didn't bounce, so he was relieved for the small bit of luck, as he kept walking, breaking into a run. Just when he thought he was almost safe, standing on June's doorstep about to open it, someone came up from behind him with a rag covered in chloroform. Try as might not to breath, he could still feel the drug's hold taking effect in his body. He woke up in a prison.

* * *

Matthew Keller sat in the small metal cell on the cot, trying to get some sleep, but the noise that his captors were playing over and over kept him awake. He'd been kidnapped during his transfer this morning and dumped in a cell that had only a cot and a small window on the door and a slot for food. Suddenly, the noise quit and the door opened and a masked man shoved a pretty young blonde woman in the cell. She cried out in pain as the door shut and he shot up. She looked around, speaking frantically in another language.

"I don't understand," he told her as clearly as he could.

"English? We're in America?" She spoke in heavily accented English and he nodded.

"I take it that's not where you started out."

"I was in Morocco. I was ambushed, knocked out, and brought here. I don't know how they found me. I shouldn't have gone to Marrakech. That was my mistake. And now he's going to kill me just to spite my dead brother." She laughed bitterly, "Ironic, isn't it?"

He moved over on the bed and she moved up to sit on it. The door opened and they threw another person in. "It's getting to be like a crawl space in here," Keller joked dryly. The man on the ground groaned and rolled over. "Caffrey? What did you do to piss these guys off?"

"I made a fool out of him," he winced as he tried to move his arm, "About ten years ago." He spotted the girl, "Hello Zarya. It's nice to finally meet you." Her expression flickered to confused. "I knew Simon," he explained as calmly as he could. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "I also know Annie."

Zarya softened at this, Keller noticed. "How is she?"

"She's good. She got home safe." The Russian nodded, smiling at this, before she laughed bitterly.

"You'd think that growing up in a family of spies would have taught me not to get myself caught."

Keller raised his eye at her, "Well, I'd like to know who these guys are and why I'm here."

Neal rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, "FSB turned Russian mob. They probably didn't buy your bullshit about stealing the treasure to return to Russia and resent paying your legal fees. They'd rather get use out of their investment, is my best guess."

"And the girl?"

"She escaped them and was the beloved sister of a very dangerous assassin and spy. They probably assume she could be used as leverage." He looked at Keller. "I take it you'd rather be in the prison that you have the cigars and eight-thousand dollar bottle wine waiting for you."

"Oh yeah. Before, they kept playing this awful noise loudly. Wouldn't let me sleep at all." He glanced at Neal, who looked like he was in a good deal of pain. "How's the shoulder?"

"How's the knee?" he responded sarcastically.

"Better, no thanks to you."

"Yeah, well, you kidnapped my friend and tried to kill me. What did you expect?" A horrible, mind wrenching noise came from the other side of the door and the three winced.

"I guess our social hour's over!" Keller yelled over the noise.

* * *

_"I imagine you would like to go home. I would like that for you too. All I need is for you to cooperate. My name is Alexei. Please tell me yours."_

_Navon glanced at his chains and leaned in, copying the other man's body language. He stuck with the closest thing to the truth. "Neal Caffrey."_

_"I see. I am from Sarajevo. And you?"_

_"St. Louis, Missouri, but I was born in D.C." Alexei frowned, sitting back. Again, Navon copied his body language._

_"You are not Neal Caffrey. Your name is Navon Chait and you are a Mossad operative."_

_Navon leaned in close, resting his arms on the table. "Two problems with that theory."_

_"And what's that?"_

_"Well, one, don't you have to be from Israel and you know, speak their language?"_

_Alexei frowned. "And the other problem?"_

_"I don't like guns." Navon smirked and leaned back._

_"You are too comfortable here to be American."_

_"If you want uncomfortable, go to America, get into WitSec, p- off a couple of Feds, or a major mob. Anything else is a game of chess."_

_"You like chess." Navon raised his brow. "You should know how to protect your king better then." Alexei stood and turned to leave._

_"Wait! Before you go, I had a camera in my clothes. Would you mind getting a picture of me like this? I've got a friend and he's real in to the whole Cold War spy games thing and I was thinking this'd be a great Christmas card."_

_"This is a prison!" Alexei exclaimed, outraged. Surely they hadn't been so far off in their intel, had they?_

_"I'm not asking to give tours around this place, just for a picture."_

_Alexei called to the guards in Russian, telling them to take the man back to his cell, then proceeded to write down what the younger man had told him. When he was done, he took the information to his bosses, who made a profile about Neal Caffrey in their system and deleted the picture of the man that they thought had been Navon Chait. In the meanwhile, Navon lay in his cell, eyes shut, trying to drowned out the noise with his thoughts._

* * *

Peter groaned as he listened to the other end of the phone. "What's wrong, hon?" El asked, sneaking up behind him.

"Neal cut his anklet."

"You think Keller grabbed him." It wasn't a question.

"It's possible." She kissed him.

"Go. He needs you to get him back safe." Peter pursed his lips.

"Come with me there. This way, I'll know you'll be safe."

* * *

Neal curled up in the back corner, trying to block out the sound, with Keller and Zarya sitting on the bed, despite Zarya's protests that he should be up there because of his injured shoulder.

"You should let me look at that shoulder," Keller said, standing up off the cot.

"It's fine. It's not broken, probably just dislocated."

"Well then it needs to be popped in." Keller knelt beside him, "On three… one…" He popped it back in and Neal yelped in pain. He glared back at Keller.

"What happen to two and three?" Zarya's lips twitched with a smile. Keller sat back down on the cot. Neal's head dropped between his knees as the noise grew louder.

* * *

_"I'm impressed. You have held out longer than most."_

_"Well, I'd like to think that's because they aren't as good as me," Navon quipped back._

_"The guards say you sit at think and that makes you unaffected. May I ask what you think about?"_

_"About what I'm going to steal when I get out of here. There's a rather nice Raphael in London that I'm pretty fond of. Or maybe I'll forge the Franklin bottle._   _Burmese Rubies are always tempting." He paused, looking at Alexei, smirking, "And there a music box that I'd really like to have. It's a real piece of art."_

_"You sit and plan heists?" Alexei looked appalled by this._

_"I've been told I have the attention span of a toddler."_

_"I can tell."_

* * *

"Any leads on where Caffrey ran to?" Kramer asked as he walked in the room, two days after Keller's 'escape'.

"I mean no disrespect,  _sir_ ," Rossabi said, looking at the older man, "but the evidence points to him being kidnapped, not him cutting the anklet and running. So how much longer are we going to put up with this bullshit about him running?"

"I thought you meant no disrespect." The younger agent shrugged. "Does anyone else also feel this way?" Jones and Diana raised their hands. Kramer turned to Peter. "And you, Petey?"

Peter sighed loudly, "Based on the evidence that Keller's kidnapped before and has tried to kill Neal in the past, I think it is more likely that he kidnapped Neal."

Kramer frowned and nodded. "Then your team can follow that lead and I'll have another team follow up on Caffrey running."

A woman, dressed in FBI slacks and a purple top appeared in the doorway of White Collar as the four agents defended the stairs. "Agent Cruz? I thought you got transferred to Colorado."

"I'm just back for a bit. It's about Neal." She didn't meet the eyes of the other agents and didn't give anything away. "As it turns out, Neal and I have a mutual friend. He sent me the text that Neal sent him before he disappeared." She handed him her phone.

"'Pen'?"

"Him and Neal used to work together back before Neal Caffrey was his name. I got most of my information for my thesis from him. Apparently, he and Neal have a code. 'Pen' means that he is being tailed by someone who may be hostile."

"'Pen'?"

"I guess it's like a safe word that kids use with their parents. Anyways, Mingus-"

"The Angry Man of Jazz?"

Lauren looked amused at Peter. "And here I thought Elizabeth was the only one who liked jazz. But no, he just calls himself that, which kind of works because he's pretty temperamental. I left my shoes in the middle of the floor and I got a half hour lecture on the important of not leaving my shoes in the middle of the floor."

Rossabi snickered. "You think this is funny?" Peter asked him.

"A blind man trips over her shoes and she feels inconvenienced by it. Yeah, I think that's funny."

"So you know this 'Mingus'?" He nodded his head.

"I call him John the John, but I guess Mingus is a better name."

Peter looked between them. "Do I really want to know?"

* * *

_"Nobody's coming for you,_ Neal _."_

_"I don't have anyone."_

_"Then what are you afraid of? That you'll be thought of as a traitor?"_

_"A traitor to who? You have to have a country in order to be a traitor."_

_"Then why don't you talk?"_

_"Because I have nothing to say."_

_"You have a silver tongue, Neal."_

_"Thank you, but I prefer gold."_

* * *

The noise cut out two days later and Zarya muttered a few words in Russian thanking the entire universe. And then the door opened. Two Russian military men entered and then the third man. Neal straightened, but didn't stand. "You may be wondering why you're here," Alexei Vershinin spoke.

"Just a tad," Neal replied, rolling his eyes.

"Neal Caffrey, nobody's still coming for you."

"You said that last time and then someone killed half your men and broke me out."

"And I suppose you still won't talk."

Neal shrugged. "You know me. I've got nothing to say."

Alexei stepped forward, running his finger though Zarya's hair. "I assume you've become acquainted with Simon's sister. Some people find it harder to suffer pain then to suffer pain themselves. After our time together last time, I will assume this is more like you. Tomorrow we shall see if I'm right."

Alexei walked out, followed by the two soldiers.

* * *

_The light was blinding in the room they were holding him in. He hadn't slept or eaten in over a week and he was tied up, naked except for his underwear, the last shred of decency his captors provided him with. The only people he had seen were the soldiers who brought him back and forth to the interrogation room and his interrogator, Alexei Vershinin. The noises where loud in his cell, and then there was no noise, they kept the lights flickering on and off._

_"You'd make things so much easier on yourself if you just cooperated." He turned to the soldiers and ordered in Russian. They left and came back with a bucket of water. Alexei threw a cloth over Navon's face, pinched his noise shut, and began pouring water over the prisoner's face, into his mouth, which had been forced opened. Navon squirmed and struggled against the bonds, the sickening crack of bones resounding through his ears as pain shot through his right arm, screaming even as he choked through the water. His body retched, gasping for air, but finding only water. And then, it stopped for one blessed minute, the cloth was removed from his face, and he was brought into brightness._

_"Who do you work for?" Alexei demanded._

_"N-N-No one," he coughed out. The cloth was slapped back over his face and the water came pouring over him again._

_He thrashed, trying to get free, trying to get what he so badly needed… air. He breathed in and the water came rushing into his lungs, burning all the way down as it came into his chest. He tried to hold his breath after that, but he needed air, and it felt like his head might explode from the lack of it. His mouth opened and he breathed in more water, screaming in agony as it felt like it was tearing through his body. His tears mixed with the water being poured over his face. His mind was racing, trying to find a way out of there, but it could stay focused or coherent long enough to come up with a real plan, it just kept whispering to him,_ "You need to get out of here… you need to get out of here…"

_Hours passed like this, with Alexei pouring water, stopping, pulling the cloth from his face and asking him questions that he wouldn't answer. And every time, the mind-numbing panic overtook his body. It was terrifying, the thought that he was going to die in some underground Russian prison and no one would know, no one would care. This was it, this was really it. He was going to die… there was no way out… it was the only way to free himself from the pain so intense that he'd take being shot multiple times over this. His lungs were on fire, his broken arm cried out in protest against his struggles, his mind felt fuzzy and every time he breathed in, his inhaled water. And then, sweet, sweet mercy, it stopped._

_"Stop," Alexei ordered as he removed the cloth and Navon heaved out the water onto the floor beside him, or what of it would come out. He cough and gagged and choked, panting heavy. "You are very good at this. Most people would have broken by now, but you're not most people, are you?" Navon didn't answer, still to busy trying to get the much needed air in his lungs. "It is important for you to hear that you are better than the others, isn't it? I'm guessing you didn't hear it much at home. They don't care about you. Nobody will miss you," the man voice Navon's worse fears._

_"Good. I have no one to miss," he spat out with his last ounce of strength._

_"It's in your best interest to just tell us what you know. We know you are a spy. You won't be called a traitor; that word has no meaning to you anymore. It hasn't had for a long time."_

_"It'll always have meaning. If I'm a spy, then 'I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country.'"_

_It was made quickly apparent that Alexei didn't like this comment, as he ordered, in Russian, for one of the soldiers to break Navon's fingers, starting with his left hand, one at a time. Each slow crack, the sharpness that cut through his hand as the fingers bent back, snapping like twigs. He cried out, begging for the pain to stop. When that didn't break him, they heated up metal objects, pliers and fire irons, searing them into his skin, taking great pleasure as he sob and shouted, watching the metal burn into his flesh. At one point, he could have sworn he felt the press the lighter to his leg and flick it. He screamed until his throat burned for an entirely different reason, until it felt raw. His mind kept telling him to block it out, he'd be okay, just let go._

_He blacked out from the pain and woke up to the sounds of gunfire._

* * *

"Caffrey, you with me?" There was no response.

"Maybe you should try slapping him? I saw it once in a movie and it worked there." Keller took Zarya's suggestion and slapped Neal across the face, hard. He was greeted with a hard push to his left shoulder and a hand slamming into his right shoulder blade, pressing him face first into the mattress.

"Ow! Easy, Caffrey!" Neal fell back against the wall, releasing the other man. Keller straightened up, "You were in shock. We'd been calling at you for the past, what, twenty minutes and you didn't answer."

"It's true," Zarya told him, "You were just staring blankly at the wall." She studied the Israeli's face carefully. "He tortured you, didn't he?" Neal eyed her, then nodded.

"I owe you brother my life. That's why I'm going to get you out of here."

She smiled at this and kissed Neal's forehead. "Thank you. You should get some rest. It sounds like we'll have a busy day tomorrow." The Russian looked to Keller, "You too, Matthew." She kissed the other man's cheek, the one that was more bruised from where Neal had slammed it into the cot. Deciding to follow her advice, the two men laid down on the cot, the Russian girl in the middle, between of them, and Neal with his back to the wall.

* * *

_Navon jerked awake in his cell- how did he get to his cell?- as gunfire echoed through the halls of the prison. There were shouts and yelling and he stood, careful of his arm and fingers as he peeked out of the window on the door. A man approached and opened it, grabbing lesser injured of his arms and led him down the hall, where he motioned to a tunnel. Navon went through it and was met with daylight. He had to squint against it, unaccustomed to the sun after his weeks underground. He turned to the man who had saved him. "We have to go. They won't be far behind," the man spoke, motioning to a car that he unlocked._

_"W-w-who a-a-re you?" Navon managed to get out._

_"My name's Simon Fischer."_

* * *

The noise started back up again sometime in the middle of the night, or what Neal thought might be night. Trying not to wake her or Keller, he slipped from the cot, trying to find something, anything, that he could use as a weapon. He found a shard of glass on the floor in the corner, something that they must have missed when cleaning out the cell from the last use of it. It would serve well enough for a distraction. He striped off his suit jacket, button-down shirt, and finally his undershirt, ripping a piece out of the back of the undershirt to wrap around the bottom of the glass to make a shank. It would serve his purposes well enough.

"You're going to kill him, aren't you?"

"If I don't, he'll kill Zarya and then he'll escalate."

"You're not a killer, Neal." He softened for a moment. It was rare for Keller to call him by his first name.

"Neal Caffrey is just a name." He looked up at Keller, "Simon Fischer and I, we're the same. The only difference is that he took a bullet to the chest and I got arrested." Neal looked back down, "My step-father always said that one day I would get caught, it was just a question of when and where and how. He said that when I got caught, to make sure it was on my terms, keep my head down, and remember my manners in prison."

"You don't have to kill him," Keller said, sitting down, facing him, his legs stretched out in front of him. "I could do it."

"No. I made the mistake of letting him live last time. I should have hunted him down and killed him and instead I let him live and people I care about have suffered because of it. It's my mess and I'll clean it up."

Keller studied him with careful eyes. Neal's eyes were cold, they held no trace of compassion or emotion. It was then he had little doubt that Neal was a killer. "You know, first time we met, I thought you were a spy. You were just too good at being a conman." Neal smirked and gave a weak laugh and Keller continued, "You said Neal Caffrey's just a name. Do you even remember what your real one was?"

"Which real one? I have three. And all three are legal."

"Three?" For a man who had used the same name through his whole life, the was incomprehensible.

"The name my father gave me, the name my mother gave me, and the last name my step-father gave me." He smirked. "But Neal was the first first name I ever had." He didn't offer more details. Keller didn't ask. Neal tucked the shank in his pocket and leaned against the wall beside Keller. "So tomorrow, I'm going to need you to keep her safe." Keller gave him a confused look, and Neal elaborated. "When the guards come, they'll take me first. Alexei will try to get me to talk, and then they'll come back for her. I want you to run interference on the guards, keep them from taking Zarya out of the room."

"I can do that." What Keller didn't say was, "You can trust me," or "I have your back." He knew better than to give out words that Neal wouldn't accept. "Do you think all your fed friends are looking for us?"

"Yes. They were looking for you when I left. And Kramer will probably swear that I ran."

"How bad was it?" He almost sounded worried.

"They think you killed the driver and the guards."

"I didn't."

"I know." Keller looked up, surprised. "Once I realized that Alexei was involved…"

"How did you figure that out? You knew before he came in."

"I woke up in the van on the way here. I heard them speaking. You don't forget the voice of the man who tied you up and tortured you. Trust me," Neal added. They were quiet after that.

* * *

Morning came and what Neal said was true. The guards took him to an interrogation room and locked him to a chair across from Alexei, before they left. "Good morning. I trust you slept well." Neal glared, pulling a pin from the inside of his suit sleeve as he began to pick the locks on his cuffs. "Yes, I know. You won't tell me anything. You don't know anything. You have no country. You have nothing to say." The lock on his right arm clicked open as Alexei opened the briefcase on the table and pulled out a picture of a much younger Neal and Simon, talking to an young American-Indian man. He began working on the left. "Two of the people in the people are dead. I know you could care less if you join their ranks. However, I know that you respected Simon and will feel as though you owe him to protect his sister. The only way to protect her is to tell me what you three were talking about."

"I asked them for directions," Neal replied as the second lock clicked and the handcuffs slipped off.

"Wrong answer." Alexei pulled out another picture, one of a pretty girl with her mother's blonde hair and blue eyes. "You recognize her, don't you?" He pulled out a second picture, one of Neal hugging her in Central Park.

"I can't say what we talked about."

"Then write it down." He pulled out a pad and a piece of paper. "And do not say you are left handed."

"Well, so much for that then." The words were sarcastic, but they were followed by moves that were quick as lightning, swift and practiced, fluid even. Neal reached up, grabbing the man around the collar before he had the chance to respond, slamming the man's head into the table. Alexei fought back against him, grabbing his gun, but Neal let go of the man's head and slammed his arm against the table as the man pulled the trigger. The gun fell to the floor with a second shot fired. The two struggled, a task made more difficult by the table between them, but Neal gained leverage on him, pulling out his shank as the other man struggled. "You made one mistake," Neal to Alexei as he wrapped the man's tie around his hand, keeping him close.

"And what's that?" the man choked.

"Well, there was more than one. Shall I start with threatening the girl?" He tightened his grip, "Or should I start with kidnapping me?"

The Russian struggled, but Neal didn't notice as he stabbed the glass through the back of the man's neck. His face was cold and his eyes were fixed on the picture on the table of Rebekah. He couldn't save Chanah or Simon, but he could save her daughter and his sister. "Jesus, Neal!" he heard Keller exclaim from the other side of the room and his eyes snapped up. It was then he realized that Alexei's body was hanging limply from the tie, the shank embedded deeply inside his neck. He released the tie and dropped his hands like they burned.

"How'd you get out?"

"Zarya started yelling that she'd talk, I hit, when they opened the door to get her, we ambushed them and took their weapons. We came to rescue you." Neal reached down for the gun on the floor that Alexei had dropped.

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"I thought I might be able to stop you from killing him. It was premeditated. There'll be people who'll try to gun for you this time 'round in prison." He almost sounded worried.

"I don't need  _you_  to protect me." A loud clang came from the end of the hallway and both men ran out. Zarya was pointing her gun at Eyal and Diana, who were both holding their weapons aimed at her. "Hey, wait, it's okay." Diana raised her eyebrow at him and lowered her weapon, as did Zarya. Eyal, reluctantly, followed their lead and lowered his as well. "Where's Peter?"

"Following another lead. Although I take it our lead was the better one." Neal knew in the back of his mind that what Diana was really saying is that she went rogue with his brother to find him. It was sweet.

"I tried to return your call," Eyal told him with that smirk that they must have inherited from their mother, "But I didn't have your phone number. You weren't doing anything today, were you?"

"Do you use that line on everyone you rescue?" Zarya asked him, rolling her eyes, "It sounded far to practiced to be your first time." The older Israeli smirked.

"The guards are in the cell," Keller told Diana, "Feel free to cuff them, or me. I liked my prison cell with cigars and expensive liquor. It'd be better than this place." Diana chuckled and cuffed him.

"Who's the girl?"

"Zarya Fischer," she introduced herself. His brother's eyes met his, asking all the questions he didn't want to say in front of everyone, and Neal nodded.

"There's a body in the interrogation room," he told Diana, facing up to his choices, "His name is Alexei Vershinin. He's a former FSB interrogator with mob connections. I killed him." Eyal's fist clenched.

"The same Alexei Vershinin who-" he didn't need to finish his sentence for Neal to know where it was headed.

"Yeah." The FBI agent nodded.

"I'll come up with a story." She nodded towards the exit. "That way's out. I'll call for backup once we're out." Zarya nodded, following the FBI agent who was leading Keller away in cuffs.

"You got my text," he said to Eyal in Hebrew as the followed the trio, "I wasn't sure if the number was still good."

"I forwarded it to Eliana. She brought the information to your friends."

"Thank you." They were quiet as they ascended to the surface and the three prisoners saw sunlight for the first time in days. "How long we were gone?" he asked Diana after she had called in for the paramedics and called Peter.

"Four days. It would have been longer, but your brother had a hunch." Neal smiled.

"He never told you his name, did he?" The agent raised her brow, "You always call him 'your brother'."

"He didn't. So?"

"It's Eyal." Her eyes darted to the taller man who was speaking to someone over the phone, "I trust you."

"And I appreciate that. But we have something important to do now. There's going to be questions about how you killed the guy down there, and why you did it, and the weapon you killed him with."

"He threatened to torture Zarya because he mistook me for someone else and then threatened to kill my niece. I fought a piece of glass and I figured that it was possible that he would resort to violence and it was better if I was armed. We struggled, I managed to get the upper hand and stabbed him. I didn't realize what had happened until after Keller yelled."

"That sounds suspiciously like the truth."

"'And you shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.'"

"Wrong agency," she quipped.

"But the right idea." He looked at her, "In my line of work, I've learned that you want to keep your lies as close to the truth as possible." She eyed him.

"So what didn't you say in that?"

Neal smirked, and in the second, despite being kidnapped and held hostage by a man who wrecked seemed to have havoc on his mind and emotions, looked exactly like she'd pictured Neal Caffrey, er, Navon Chait the spy.

"I'll never tell."

* * *

Bonus Features:

• "I'm not asking to give tours around this place, just for a picture."  
   This is based off of a quote from the Pilot of Castle, where Castle asks Beckett for photos of the crime scene to take to his mystery writers' poker night. As for Neal's friend, use your imagination. This is pre-Mozzie.

  
• "I mean no disrespect, sir," Rossabi said, looking at the older man, "but the evidence points to him being kidnapped, not him cutting the anklet and running. So how much longer are we going to put up with this bullshit about him running?"  
   "I thought you meant no disrespect."  
   Based off of Auggie and Arthur's conversation in Rock n Roll Suicide. Neal's interrogations are also based off of Annie's in this same episode.

• Cruz was in the FBI's organized crime unit, before she was transferred to White Collar for undercover work. She disappeared without a real explanation. My explanation is she's really Mossad, sent to check up on Neal who is still an active field agent at this time. Her name is Eliana Shalit.

• Mingus is Auggie's code met Auggie in the Pilot. Auggie called Rossabi a 'sightist' and asked for somebody more open-minded. It was when Annie was pretending to be a high-end prostitute and Auggie was pretending to be "a client, a john as they say, which is ironic since my name is John."

• Alexei Vershinin was also Annie's interrogator in Rock n Roll Suicide. Eyal gave him his 'clean' passport to get out of the country, but I made his problems a bit deeper than just embezzling. And yes, he mostly wants to kill Keller because Keller is good at pissing people.

• This isn't the first time Neal's suffered flashbacks like this. It's likely that after seeing the awful things he did and being tortured, he suffers relapses of PTSD, even though most of the time it seems like he's fine.

• "I tried to return your call," Eyal told him with that smirk that they must have inherited from their mother, "But I didn't have your phone number. You weren't doing anything today, were you?"  
    Eyal used a similar line with Annie in Rock n Roll Suicide. "Sorry to drop in unannounced. I didn't have your phone number. You weren't doing anything today, were you?"


End file.
